The Jewel Saga
by AMBC
Summary: Grab your hats, folks, and get ready for an epic, classic TF adventure! Between swashbuckling pirates, massive earthquakes, broken dams, warring parishes and a snarky kid, it's gonna be a loooong week for our favourite mercs. Corrections by beta reader LilyRosetheDreamer.
1. Foul Territory

Fátima.

A civil parish in the nation of Portugal that consists of several villages and localities. It was in this parish that the apparition of the Virgin Mary appeared to three young children in 1917. The apparition of Our Lady of Fátima in this small parish in the district of Santarém has led to hundreds of thousands of pilgrims to visit the Shrine at Fátima each year, many in the hope of receiving healing.

While the citizens of Fátima were genially peaceful folks with religious convictions, they had recently grown into conflict with a neighbouring parish. The citizens of this parish were descendants of Portugal's most hated enemy, the Spanish, so it was only natural that tensions and arguments would heat up between them, even over the smallest of things.

You're probably wondering why I'm talking about Portugal and Spain, huh? Well...

"Okay, I'll say it. We did not think this through." The Scout said to his two teammates. Indeed, it was in the neighboring parish that he, Soldier and Heavy found themselves shackled, their clothes covered in churro crumbs, and surrounded at spear-point by a group of very ticked off Spaniards, who were under the believe that they were 'smelly Brazilians' sent by the Fátima locals to spy on them. To add salt to the wound, they tied Radlee Ragde, Teufort's local wizard, to a makeshift cross because he was, you guessed it, a wizard, and believed to be associated with Satan. There were some Spaniards surrounding the cross with torches in their hands, waiting to set it aflame.

"Inform them of their punishments." The Spaniards' leader, a tall woman with tanned skin and jet-black hair ordered.

"Pagan on the cross," The steward read out the punishments on the scroll, "You are to be sentenced to death by fire, for your connections with Satan and sorcery."

"I prefer not to be burned at the stakes. This is the witch-hunts all over again..." Radlee said quietly. He sounded very calm, despite his current predicament, "But seriously, don't burn me. I'm allergic to fire, so let's not..."

"You are a disgrace to God!" The Líder snapped, "I say, burn the Devil's spawn!"

Many of the Spaniards cheered in agreements.

"Sí, That's right!"

"Get on with it!"

The steward cleared his throat and continued reading, "And the spies from the Americas are to have their eyes and tongues removed for unlawful association with the bastardos from Fátima."

"Aw, hell no!" Scout yelled, "C'mon, lady, you gotta hear us out! We don't mean any harm, really! And Radlee's a good wizard!" That last sentence was true. Sure, Radlee was eccentric and a little creepy...okay, a _lot_ creepy in Scout's case, but he meant well. Plus, he was the one who volunteered to carry around the one device that kept the RED team from dying, so keeping their mobile Respawn devise safe was a must.

"Also, we are not Brazilians!" Soldier piped in, "We are pure-blooded Americans from the States!"

"And Russian." Heavy added.

"SLIENCE! The people of El Morado do not listen to the lies of the Portuguese language, and we especially do not listen to the words of Pagans," The Líder looked at Radlee with disdain, "Just look at him. Ivory skin, violet eyes, magical powers. These are all physical attributes to the Devil." Again, more cheers of agreement from the Spaniards.

"Actually, my skin is like this because I get too much moon." Radlee said.

"Yeah, nobody cares, man." Scout replied up to him.

"Oh..."

The Bostonian then turned his attention back to the angry Spaniards, "But seriously, we ain't here to cause trouble. We're here on a mission of mercy."

"And to get Iberian Jewel." Heavy said.

That was probably not the correct thing to say, because the Spaniards gasped in shock and the Líder lashed out at the mercs, "So, it is _you_ who stole the sacred artefact! The Iberian Jewel was ours since the Age of Exploration! It is the birthright of _our_ people, the Spaniards! Its legendary power is _ours_!"

There were similar roars of outrage from the Spaniards.

"Our birthright!"

"They deserve death!"

"Sí, kill them! Burn the bastardos!"

Scout recoiled from the angry face of the Líder and whispered to Heavy, "Not what they wanted to hear right now, big guy."

"Sorry."

Cleary, talking sense into these Spaniards was going to be more difficult than the Scout thought. When the team, Maria, Alice and Miss Pauling first arrived in Fátima, nobody told him that the warring Iberians would have fricking stubbornness issues. Hell, it took a lot of effort on the team's part to convince the Fátima folks not to skewer Radlee when he followed the group all the way here. It was their way of saying they were more lenient towards wizards despite their own religious convictions.

"To the bowels of Hell with you all," The Líder snarled, "Had you bothered to point out the figurehead of this group, things would have been much different"

"Whoa-ho-ho! Nobody told me I could throw someone under the bus here!" Scout exclaimed. Had the other team-members been with them, they would've made Scout hold his tongue. But since no one was stopping him, he continued, "Well, since we're gonna play the blame game here, I just want you to know that this was all Soldier's idea."

"JUDAS!" Even when shackled, Soldier managed to wrap his hands around Scout's neck. The violent reaction caused the Spaniards holding the spears to back away slightly from the three mercs, "I AM GOING TO KILL YOU BEFORE THEY TAKE AWAY MY SIGHT AND MY VOICE!"

"Ack! Somebody–pluck–his–eyes–out!" Scout managed to choke out, which resulted in the Soldier shaking him harder. The Líder screamed at them to be quiet while Heavy attempted to break the pair up. All in all, everything just spurred into chaos. Radlee sighed sadly. This is what happens when you enter an unknown territory without the proper preparation.

Fortunately, luck seemed to be on their side today, because there was a feminine "STOP!" and a familiar short bespectacled woman in a purple dress raced up to the mercs.

"Oh, thank God..." Scout whispered in relief. Soldier may not be strangling the Bostonian anymore because he diverted his attention to Miss Pauling, but he still had his hands around Scout's neck.

"Wait! Please, they're telling the truth." Miss Pauling said to the Spaniards. She sounded quite out of breath, probably from running, "They don't have the Iberian Jewel, and they're not Brazilians. They don't even speak or sound Portuguese. You have the wrong culprits."

The Lídar narrowed her eyes at her, "And who are you supposed to be? Are you associated with these bastardos?"

"Well, to answer your questions, my name is Miss Pauling. These gentlemen here and I work for an employer of TF Industries." Miss Pauling responded immediately, trying not to reveal too much secret information, just in case, "We're based in the United States, in Badlands, New Mexico to be exact."

The Lídar raised an eyebrow, "The United States? The heathen nation that poorly copies other nations' cultures and customs, and smothers their cuisines with artificially processed meats?"

"Exactly!" Soldier exclaimed proudly. Naturally, everybody ignored him.

"That said, we are not here to cause any trouble." Miss Pauling continued, "The eleven of us are genially here to help you."

"Eleven? There are others?"

"Three Americans, four Europeans, an Australian and an arsonist, to be exact," There was a long pause as Miss Pauling looked at the ground awkwardly, "We're not sure about the arsonist's nationality, or species. They could be human, but we can't confirm that."

"I can confirm that." Radlee piped in.

"Quiet, Pagan! We do not listen to the Devil's whispers!" The Lídar snapped at him before looking at the other woman again, "We will, however, give the diminutive female from the States a chance to explain herself. If she chooses to speak for these imbeciles, that is."

"I would assume so," Miss Pauling decided, "We need all the help we can get after all."

"Very well, but if what you say proves to be false, we will not hesitate in removing your eyes and tongue." The Lídar said, her voice threatening with a hint of anger.

"I understand."

That caused the Scout to become panicky. It was bad enough that his team's eyes and tongues were on the line here, but he didn't want the girl whom he had been trying to sweep off her feet ever since he joined RED to meet the same fate. He inched over to Miss Pauling and whispered, "What're you doing? These guys are frickin' nutjobs! They won't listen to you! And where're the guys when you need them?"

"Don't worry, Scout, I'm just going to tell them what happened," Miss Pauling whispered back, "Everything's going to be fine. Just play along with it. Medic and Engie are still in the village, but I'm not sure what happened to the others. I can only assume that they're safe."

Radlee fidgeted in his bindings and asked politely, "Can somebody please untie me? I need to scratch my nose." He received a stone to his forehead in response.

"Pagan!"

"Ow..."

"You are going to tell them everything." Soldier chipped in, not wanting to be left out in what he saw as a 'whispering game', "However, nobody here will know we are mercenaries, right?"

"Nobody will know what you guys do for a living, Soldier. I don't think these people even know what a mercenary is," Miss Pauling replied, "This is a Portuguese region still stuck in the Middle Ages. We'll only tell them what they need to know."

"I see." There was a pause, "Miss Pauling."

"Yes?"

"You won't think we're mercenaries, right?"

"I've known you and the guys for four years, Soldier. I'll know the truth."

"What about Maria and the others? Can I tell them?"

"When we find them, you can tell them."

"If we get out." Heavy said.

"If you all are quite finished," The Lídar interrupted with impatience in her voice, "I would like your surrogate mother to tell us why you are here."

Miss Pauling blushed. She had never been called the mercs' surrogate mother before. Sure, she cleaned up after their killings and made sure they were alright, but she always reminded herself that her relationship with the mercenaries was completely in the acquaintance zone. Nothing more, "O-okay, well, it all began about a week ago..."

And so began the beginning of an epic saga.

**Surprise!**

**A new TF2 story! If you're confused about where this is going, don't worry. Basically, three-quarters of the story will be an entire flashback, so it'll all make sense as the story progresses.**

**PS: personally, I haven't played the game, but I've read the comics, and watched the videos. So, I'm basing their personalities off what I've read in the comics. **

**Plus, the chapters will be named after achievements from the game. So, yeah, that's all.**

**Follows, favourites and reviews are encouraged and appreciated.**


	2. Trench Warfare

**So, I'm back with a new chapter! Thank whatever's up there!**

**Please review, I want to hear what you guys think of this story.**

**Now, then...**

_One week ago..._

The Administrator was not in a good mood.

Not that she usually was, but still. She was currently upset about the fact that she was having a video conference with Saxon Hale(that she herself didn't schedule or call for), _during_ a goddamn battle between the eighteen mercenaries they were paying to blow each other up on a daily basis, in Gold Rush. It didn't help matters that the monitor showed Hale playing angry Twister with a snake the size of a tree trunk somewhere in the Amazon.

"You better have a good reason for calling me, Hale." The Administrator said, eyes narrowed, "We're in the middle of a match, after all."

"Don't worry, Helen. This meeting will only take a second." The snake hissed and tried to take a bite out of the power-man's head, but Hale managed to grab its jaw and proceeded to strangle it, "Oh, yeah! I like this snake dipped in butter!"

"Patience, Mister Hale, I'm loosing it." The Administrator snapped, making a bridge with her fingers.

"Oh, right. Well, here's the situation: Mann Co. has been getting a lot of complaints lately about crimes against humanity...or something like that. Those letters of complaints are coming from the good people of Badlands."

"Oh, you are kidding me." The Administrator muttered as she rubbed her temples. This was not the first time that the citizens of Badlands had written complaints about having their landmarks turned into battlegrounds. Normally Saxton Hale would just ignore them, but if he was calling her about the complaints, then it was something to be concerned about.

There was sickening crack, and the snake Hale was fighting with fell limp, "Whoo! Now _that_ was epic! Anyway, the folks in Badlands are threatening to sue Mann Co. I spoke with my aides, and they said that we can't afford a lawsuit when most of the money is spent on fighting exotic animals."

The Administrator's eye twitched when Hale let the dead snake with the dislocated jaw fall to the ground, "Disgusting...and what is your point, Mister Hale?"

"Long story short, I may have to stop selling my guns to your mercs. I'll continue selling hats, though."

It took the Administrator a good minute to take in the gravity of the situation. Once she did, she unclasped her fingers and cleared her throat, "With all due respect, Mister Hale, the mercs can't survive without their weapons, and they certainly can't fight with hats. They're virtually useless." She closed her eyes, "And for God's sake, put on a shirt, so I can think straight." Oh, yes. It was really difficult to concentrate when there was a big, muscular chest staring back at you on the monitor.

Hale, being the thick-headed Australian that he was, did not catch on to the Administrator's discomfort and continued talking, "Yes, I know you don't want Mann Co. to stop selling weapons, but it's business. We can't fight business. Though, it would be nice if we did..." He said thoughtfully, almost wistfully, before continuing, "Fortunately, I may have a solution."

"...As painful as it is to say it, I'm listening." The Administrator said after a long pause.

"Basically, the folks in Badlands want to sue us because your mercs are blowing up their landmarks. However, I figured that they can't sue us if they saw the mercs in a more positive light. So, here's my plan: we go to an orphanage, adopt a kid and get your men to take care of it."

The Administrator took a puff of her cigarette which she had taken out from a draw, and rubbed her temples with her index fingers, "So, you want us to find some parent-less child, and place it under the care of nine unstable mercenaries in the hopes of not getting sued?"

"Yep!" Hale exclaimed with a big grin. Clearly, he did not see the flaws in his 'solution'.

"Mister Hale, these are idiot employees of two equally idiotic CEOs of gravel companies, not child minders."

"I know that, Helen, but given that both our businesses are on the line here, I'm not asking you to, I'm telling you to go through with my plan."

The woman sighed deeply, knowing she couldn't argue with Hale. Once that muscle-brained moron made a decision, it can be very difficult to change it, "Fine, we will see what we can do." She switched off the monitor without waiting for a response.

She sat there in her chair, contemplating what she was going to do. Frankly, she didn't want to go through with Hale's idea of not getting sued by the whole of Badlands, but she had no choice. Getting sued meant no more weapons from Mann Co., and no weapons meant no Gravel Wars, which could ultimately lead to the mercenaries discovering their real reason for fighting. It was a secret that was better off a secret in her case, and she will do whatever it takes to keep it from the mercs.

Whatever it takes.

That reminded her, the Administrator didn't do the alerts for the mercs because of her meeting with Hale. She vaguely wondered who had won, but the sight of the BLU cart rolling backwards and the alarm signalling the end of the match answered her question.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, the RED Spy was down in the laundromat(which was hardly used by the team at all. He sometimes wondered why they even have a laundromat in the first place), trying to get the blood out of his suit after the match was finished. This had been the fourth time this week that those wretched BLUs had got blood on his favourite suit. Had those people no respect in fashion? The only good part in all this was that Spy's own team managed to prevent their cart from moving into their base.<p>

They may be a bunch of idiots, but they were effective idiots. That was the only redeeming quality about being on this team. Sometimes, the masked assassin questioned his choice of job, but he'd not really had any choice when signing up for it. It had been either this or serving a lifetime in jail, until that would've unavoidably been changed to a death sentence after him inevitably killing some of the prison's more insufferable occupants. Compared to that, this was still better, since his real identity wasn't revealed to the authorities this way.

Getting his mind away from those thoughts, he continued to remove the blood from his suit as best he can. Once he was satisfied with his work, he climbed up the stairs, back into the Gold Rush base that he was familiar with. Yes, he could have taken his suit to the dry cleaners down in Teufort, only problem was nearly the entire population of that town had one-sided trust issues with the mercenaries.

He turned a corner that led to a hallway and noticed the doors to the medical bay open. Spy used this as a good opportunity to activate his cloaking device. A cheerful Medic was helping a very dazed and very subdued Scout exit the room. Spy nearly laughed at his appearance. The boy looked as if he had seen a ghost.

"And they said I wasn't qualified to remove teeth. Those people...Bah! They are not real doctors," Medic said to himself before smiling at Scout, "I would just like to thank you for proving them all wrong, Herr Scout. If I had known better, I'd say your original dentist didn't do half as good a job."

"Yeah, sure..." Scout murmured, not sounding his usual, hyper self. He raised his hand and gingerly touched his face, "Oh, God, I can't feel my face."

"That's natural. It just means the pain killers and sedatives are working. Don't worry, they only last for a few hours. Also, you'll be happy to know that your appendix won't be in any danger of blowing up anytime soon. Did you know that wisdom teeth act as a perfect conductor when sewn onto the world's most useless organ?"

"You what?!" Well, that seemed to wake Scout up a bit. He desperately patted the area where the appendix was usually located, half-expecting to feel stitches embedded in the skin.

"Oh, don't be such a baby! It'll only be for two weeks. After that, I will remove them." Medic said passively, "Anyway, I have work to do. I'm sure you can manage on your own from here." He gave the Scout a friendly pat on the back and strolled back into his office, leaving the younger male to stagger back into his room.

The Spy chuckled to himself. Despite showing a _small_ amount of sympathy for the boy's plight, (which he cleverly concealed behind his poker face) he couldn't help but find it amusing as well. He de-cloaked himself after Scout was out of sight and proceeded to return his suit to his headquarters, away from further stains.

He was just finished hanging his suit in the closet when he heard someone outside exclaim, "Dude, where's my bat?" Huh. It appears the Scout had recovered from the medication faster than the Medic had predicted. Clearly, all the times he had been exposed to the doctor's Medigun was bound to leave some side-effect.

Deciding to investigate, Spy left his headquarters to find out what was wrong with Scout. Sure enough, he found him in the mess hall, searching frantically for something, "Damn it! Where the hell is it?!"

"Problem?" Spy asked from behind.

The Scout jumped when he heard a voice from behind him, but relaxed when he saw who it was, "Yeah, I'm looking for my baseball bat. I could've sworn I left it in my room after the match."

"Yes, well, I assume that you want help looking for it." The Frenchman said.

"Would you?" Scout asked hopefully.

"Non." Spy began to stride away.

"Aw, c'mon, Spy! I can't look for it myself! It could be anywhere, and I need it to get the Intel when we get back to 2Fort."

Spy stopped in his tracks, "You know, it is not that difficult to locate. It will turn up. Besides, you have other weapons besides a bat. Why don't you use them?"

That set Scout off into another one of his rants. The Spy rolled his eyes and took out a cigarette from his case. He didn't know why he wasn't used to the boy's childish behaviour at this point. It was a miracle that it hadn't gotten him permanently killed.

"...and boom! We win the Intelligence! Ya see how-"

Just then, the doors to the mess hall opened with a loud bang. An annoyed Sniper came storming into the room, "Scout, where the bloody hell did you put my Huntsman?"

"What the hell're you talking about?" Scout asked.

"I mean my Huntsman isn't in my room, and the last time you used it, it was to see if the BLU's bomb will explode when they were pushing it."

"Yeah, that would've been epic...but seriously, I don't have it, so don't pin the blame on me!"

"Well, some bloke's waltzing around with it, and it's definitely not me!"

As the two mercs bickered over Sniper's missing Huntsman, the Spy raised an eyebrow. So, the Bushman wasn't the only one who lost a weapon. Indeed this discussion over lost weapons was becoming a bit concerning. Basically it could mean that either the BLU Spy was sneaking around the base, or worst case scenario, that hideous, phantom-like creature, Radlee had followed the team all the way here. Spy had a feeling that the team will fare better at a wizard with a hoarding complex than an enemy Spy.

Of course, the situation only got worse when they heard a door banging and a familiar voice yelling, "SOMEONE! TOOK! MY! SHOVEL!"

"Aw, hell..." Murmured the Scout. Oh, yes, if the Soldier's weapons, especially his shovel, were stolen as well, it was going to spell trouble for all of them.

Sure enough, Soldier charged into the mess hall, shoving Sniper into the wall as he did so. He grabbed a protesting Scout by the collar of his shirt and pinned him against one of the tables, "There is a thief among us!"

"Sol, what the hell?!" Scout demanded as he struggled to release himself from Soldier's grasp.

"They will not escape with my shovel! I will rip their heart out with my bare hands!"

Spy calmly walked over and placed a hand on the patriarch's shoulder, "As much as it amuses me to see the level of stupidity you all can reach, I believe we will need to, as you Americans would say, 'put our heads together', in order to find your missing weapons. We will need them, should there be battle in three days. And release your grip on the boy, Soldier, or he'll end up having to go through post-Respawn."

Soldier glared at Spy through his over-sized helmet, but nevertheless, let Scout go. The roadrunner massaged his neck as he got off the table, "Shit, man. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Meanwhile, Sniper regained his composure from getting pushed into the wall and walked towards the group, "You got something stolen too, mate?"

"Yes! My shovel is missing and I have photographic proof!" Soldier took out a photograph and shoved it in the Australian's face. In the photograph was a wall with the outline of where a shovel should be. Underneath the outline was a message that said _This is my shovel! Do not take my_ _shovel!_

"Where in the hell did you get a camera?" Scout asked.

"I took it from Merasmus when I destroyed his car, but that's not important!" Soldier exclaimed, "There is a thief among us, maggots, and that could mean one thing!"

"There's a BLU Spy in the base?" Sniper asked.

"NO! HIPPIES!"

The Spy facepalmed. This was definitely one of those moments when he questioned being in the presence of these imbeciles. But as the three men were discussing their missing weapons, the Frenchman noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He noticed a small hand creeping onto the table and trying to grab hold of Pyro's Fire Axe, which that deranged arsonist had carelessly left on the table when the battle was over.

Raising an eyebrow, Spy activated his Invisibility Watch to sneak up from behind whoever was trying to steal the axe. It wasn't until he was right behind that person, did he de-cloak himself and grabbed the person's hand, "Bonjour."

The sound of a child's yelp caused all three men to turn their heads in the direction of the noise, "Gentlemen," Spy said, keeping a firm grip on the person's hand, "I believe this is your thief."

Sure enough, the person had Scout's bat, Sniper's Hunstman and Soldier's shovel loosely tied behind their backs, but that wasn't the thing that they were surprised about. It was the fact that their thief was a little girl. She was around six, with long, sandy-blonde hair tied in twin braids and the biggest olive-green eyes they had ever seen. She was struggling to get out of Spy's grip.

"What the hell? Why's there a kid in the base?" Scout wondered aloud.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Spy said. He was about to bring the child over to the others, but noticed the girl looking up at him with wide puppy-dog eyes. The Spy chuckled, "If you think that trick is going to work on me, petit, then you have much to–Putain!"

When the puppy-dog eyes didn't work, the girl resorted to giving the Spy a good kick in the shin. It apparently did the trick, as the Spy let go of the child and proceeded to massage his injured shin while ungracefully hopping on one foot, "Vous sale gosse! Vous avez forcé ma main!" The girl then ran out of the mess hall, with some of the team's weapons.

"My bat!"

"MY SHOVEL!"

Soldier and Scout gave chase to the little thief while Sniper stayed behind to laugh at the cursing Frenchman. Despite one of his weapons being stolen by a little girl, he could always enjoy seeing the Spy get hurt.

* * *

><p>"So, from the beginning. How, exactly, did you get your bottle stuck inside a Grenade Launcher?" The Engineer asked the Demoman. The two of them were in the Texan's workshop, with the former fixing up the Scot's weapon.<p>

"Well, how'd you manage to find the time to get eleven PhDs?" Demo asked back.

Engie, knowing that he'll never get a straight answer from him, just shrugged and said, "Alright, you got me." And continued to fix the launcher. Thankfully, the bottle wasn't too badly stuck in there, otherwise Demo would have to get a new gun that fired grenades.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of two mercenaries yelling God knows what, and a child's yelp. Both men looked to the workshop's door with interest. A split-second later, a little girl carrying some of the team's weapon came barreling through it, with the Scout and Soldier chasing her. In her eagerness to escape the two men, the girl tripped over one of Engie's screwdrivers, but she quickly got to her feet. She ran to the corner and huddled into it.

"STOP THAT THIEF!" Soldier yelled. The pair would have had the girl cornered had Engie not been there to hold them back.

"Stop running, you two! This place isn't a playground!"

While Engie lectured the noisy pair, Demo walked over to the corner to see who they were chasing. It was a little girl who was looking at the men with fear in her eyes. His gaze softened upon setting his one good eye on her, "Ach, it's just a wee one."

"Yeah, a wee thief! She stole our weapons!" Scout exclaimed.

"We can see that, but chasing her isn't gonna make her hand them back to you!" Engie explained. Once he was sure that the pair had calmed down, he walked over to the girl. She shrunk back when he approached her, "Easy there, little lady. We're not gonna hurt you. We just want to know who you are."

Of course, Scout, ever the eager one to have his bat back, ran up to the girl, "And give me back my bat!" That was his mistake because in one swift movement, the girl kicked the Scout in the shin and ran off again straight past the four men, "OW! Why that little-"

"Dagnabbit, boy, why'd you have to go and scare her off like that?" Engie exclaimed.

"I wasn't trying to scare her, I was just trying to get my frickin' bat back from her!" Scout replied as he massaged his throbbing shin.

"That's still no reason to go rushing up to people like that!"

While they were arguing, Soldier had already rocketed out of the workshop and once again gave chase to the girl, "I will not let you leave this base, maggot! You _will_ return my shovel!" The girl was obviously a bit faster than Soldier, because the latter was starting to trail behind. That didn't stop him from rescuing his precious shovel though.

During the chase, the pair completely passed Medic, who was carrying several stacks of paper. The German almost dropped the papers when they zipped past him, "Scheiße! What was that all about?" He paused to adjust his glasses, then looked in the direction where the pair had disappeared, "...Was Herr Soldier chasing a Kind just there?" That was when Scout, Demo, and Engie ran past him.

"STOP!" Demo yelled.

The girl refused to listen and continued her attempt in getting away from the mercenaries, right up until she turned a corner and slammed right into someone. That someone happened to be everyone's favourite Heavy Weapons Guy.

The Russian titan picked up the now frightened girl in his large hands and looked at her curiously. The rest of the team rounded the corner, "Good job catching the thief, private!" Soldier exclaimed, "Keep a firm grip on her! I don't want her escaping!" It wasn't long until Sniper, Spy and Medic also caught up with everybody else. Pyro was nowhere to be seen, but that was the least of everyone's concern at the moment.

"Who does itty bitty little girl belong to?" Heavy asked.

"That's what we're trying to find out," Engie explained, "First off, where'd she come from?"

"Maybe she came from the town?" Demo suggested.

"Teufort's too far away from Gold Rush, mate," Sniper pointed out, "I doubt anybody would be dumb enough to make a trip to a base that's in the middle of nowhere."

"Then how is it that there is a Kind right in front of us?" Medic asked.

"HEY!" The discussion would have continued had a new voice not broke it off. And that new voice was directed at Heavy, "You put me down right now, you over-sized, beef-headed, pathetic excuse for a human being that has ever been my displeasure for my eyes to see!"

Silence.

That was pretty much all the stunned mercenaries could respond to at the girl's apparently wide range of vocabulary, except for the Demoman, who uttered a low "Bloody hell.". Even the Soldier and Scout were at a loss for words, which was a first for them.

"...The little girl," Spy broke the silence. For once, he sounded unsure, "She certainly has a...unique way of putting words together."

"Shut your trap, you frog!" The girl snapped as Heavy gingerly put her down, "I am neither little nor cute!" She glared daggers at the Spy before lifting up Scout's baseball bat and examining it, "Well, now, I must be going."

"Whoa, wait!" The Scout raced up the girl, apparently the first one to break out of his stupor, "Hey, that bat belongs to me! Give it back!"

"And my shovel!"

"Explain to me, Bostonian, what is your name?"

"Um, yeah, we don't use our real names here a lot. We just use our codenames." Scout explained, "Just call me Scout."

"Ah, well, Scout," She pointed the bat at Scout, "I don't see a name on this thing, so you can't have it! The same goes for your shovel!"

"Hey, that bat has offensive value!" Scout exclaimed. He proceeded to chase the girl again, "Get back here, you little imp!" The girl quickly hid behind Engie for protection. Since he knew that Scout wouldn't be able to reach the girl from behind the Texan, the two of them proceeded to throw insults at each other.

"Bratty half-pint!"

"Brainless city boy!"

"Frickin' know-it-all!"

"Momma's boy!"

"Okay, that's enough!" The Engineer decided to break up the argument before it got worse, "Insulting each other isn't gonna solve this." He suddenly handed a familiar bat and shovel back to Scout and Soldier, "Here, Scout, I'll handle this."

"How'd you do that?" Scout asked incredulously while Soldier clung onto his shovel in a protective manner.

"I said please." Engie said simply before turning to the girl, "And as for you, little lady, you've got a lot of explaining to do. Start from the beginning."

**And there you have it! A new chapter and a new character.**

**The little girl is named Allison, or Alice, for short. She's a precocious mouthy kid with a hidden heart of gold, who loves photography and marine biology. That's pretty much all I can give you for now. Can you all guess which mercenary she's gonna become the most attached to in the future? (Hint: It's definitely not Scout!)**

**Anyway, don't forget to review. If you don't, I'll might get sad.**


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